Third Wheels
by Latte the Shipwreck Queen
Summary: "After all, by the time there are two extra wheels during an intimate outing, it's usually just considered a double date." Hershel and Claire on an outing with the Tritons. Unhealthy amounts of young awkward Clershel fluff. A one-shot, short and sweet.


**_Finally,_ I am at last posting something Clershel. They aren't together yet, but that will probably be obvious once you start reading. This was just something I wrote for some of my Layton-loving friends a while ago. It was originally intended to be longer, but I decided this stopping place was better.**

 **Disclaimer: Professor Layton belongs to Level 5 (Though I _deeply_ wish he belonged to me instead...)**

* * *

"I like them," Claire says, watching Clark and Brenda dance to the slow jazz music coming from the stage. "But sometimes I feel like a third wheel," she confesses.

"I understand what you mean. I… feel the same way," Hershel admits, tensely straightening his silverware yet again.

"It's not often there are _two_ third wheels on a date," the pretty woman muses, turning her attention away from the Tritons and toward the young man across from her.

"I believe that we would technically be the third and _fourth_ wheels," her companion reasons.

"True, but I meant it figuratively, and a fourth wheel doesn't fit the analogy," she smiles.

"Oh…" The young man suddenly feels even more awkward, something he hadn't realized was possible. The shy archaeologist seizes his glass of water and begins hurriedly drinking from it, hoping to stop himself from blurting anything else. As her friend gulps, the redhead continues speaking, watching him closely out of the corner of her eye. "After all, by the time there are _two_ extra wheels during an intimate outing, it's usually just considered a double date."

Layton chokes on his drink.

Claire appears mildly alarmed, but he waves away her concern, lightly coughing into his napkin.

"Is that so?" Hershel asks once he expels most of the water from his lungs. He sincerely hopes he does not look as flustered as he feels. He does.

"I like to think so. After all, saying we're on a double date is much nicer than feeling like a spare part." The bridge of her nose flushes a charming shade of pink as she says it. The gentleman's heart races when he finally processes her words.

"… _We're_ _on a double date…"_

Hershel swallows, his mouth suddenly feeling very dry, despite the fact he just drank (and coughed up) most of his water.

"I'm sorry; to be clear, were you speaking figuratively, or did you mean to say that you consider _this_ …" he trails off, motioning between the two of them. Claire grins as he falters.

"Do I consider this a date? In a way, yes," she confirms. Her newly appointed date is sure his heart stops for a moment. In an instant, his stomach is full of butterflies. His heart hammers so hard he can hear it in his ears. He's both thrilled and frightened at the same time, but that hardly matters because _**HE IS ON A DATE WITH CLAIRE!**_ It's a dream come true. Just as the elated young man remembers how to breathe, he realizes he's been staring at her in shock. She doesn't seem to notice him gaping (she actually _has,_ but she politely ignores it), so the giddy brunet quickly tries to calm himself before he bursts.

"Now of course, not all dates are necessarily romantic," she points out, casually sipping her fruity lemonade. Hershel's heart plummets to the floor.

"Right, of course," he reluctantly agrees, unable to keep the obvious disappointment from his voice. He should have known it was too good to be true. However, before the dejected man can begin to sulk properly, Claire clears her throat and timidly tucks a wayward copper strand behind her ear.

"Not all dates necessarily are romantic," the woman repeats, smiling shyly. "But I would very much like for this one to be." Wondering if she is serious, Hershel meets her gaze with a speed that betrays his eagerness. Miss Foley's hopeful smile is all the confirmation he needs.

"Would you like to dance?" Her date inquires with a blossoming grin, stretching out a hand.

"Why, Mr. Layton, I thought you would never ask."

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 **Ta-da!**

 **I would love to know if anybody has any thoughts. I'll probably try to write some more of this pairing soon, and I would love to know if more of this sort of this writing/story style would be well received.**

 **That's all, I guess. Thanks for reading!**


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